Unexpected
by AnnaVamp
Summary: 1860:Jasper's father is marrying a complete stranger who will turn their life upside down.Jasper his torned between his loyalty toward his father, his growing feelings and his need to go fight in the upcoming war. What will happen to him and the new girl?
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **1860- Jasper's father is marrying a complete stranger who will turn their life upside down. Jasper his torned between his loyalty toward his father, his feelings and his need to go fight in the upcoming war. What will happen to him and this new girl?

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**Chapter 1 ****: Wedding**

"I cannot believe ya father decided to remarry." My friend, Thomas, whispered to me as he played with his formal suit. He was not used to wear any of those. Neither was I. We were constantly working in the fields even though we owned the plantation and could hire others to do the work in our stead.

Thomas was an orphan since he was seven. He was living nearby and when both his parents died their house burned down, my mother too him under her wings. She always considered him as a second son. Thomas and I were inseparable ever since. He had always been my best friend and now we were considering the other a brother.

My father owned a plantation in Texas and we were a great producer of cotton. The slaves were the ones that worked the most in the fields. But I did not like to see them working hard all day long while I was sitting in our house doing nothing. Thomas felt the same way so we were helping them out there. We were not the only family that well treated the Blacks in the South. Of course, we needed them for our economy. But they were still human beings.

I sighed at the thought because I knew some men of my age that did not believe that Blacks were the same as us. They despised them and treated them as if they were dogs of some sort. But, right now, I did not want to think of the many fights I had with them after seeing them beating up Black people. Now was supposed to be a joyful day.

Thomas and I were waiting next to my father for the bride to arrive. The rest of the guests were sitting on the benches of the Chapel. After a moment, I decided to answer my friend's previous comment.

"I know. I was surprised too when he announced it to me." I leaned closer to my friend. Although I was sure my father could not hear us, I did not want him to be aware of our little conversion.

Today, August 13th 1860 was the day of the second wedding of my father, Jonathan James Whitlock. I was more than surprised when he told me that he was engaged. Since the death of my mother a few years ago, he was the bachelor of the area, wandering from bed to bed. Most people believed that he liked his new status of single man. But I knew better. I knew that the only reason he didn't settle down was because he could not forget mother. But men have needs… or so he says.

For long, I thought that he would live the rest of his life this way: no stable relationship. But then, a few weeks ago, he told me that he had the intention of marrying a lady from another township in Louisiana. Usually, people did not engage any sort of relationship with people from other states, but he said she had quite the same education as us. At least, she was from the South, although she was probably more fluent in French than English. Most people from there spoke the tongue of Moliere more frequently than the one of Shakespeare.

I did not want another mother; neither did my sister, Janet. We were the only children of the Whitlock family that survived. My parents had more than a dozen children, but they all died at birth or during childhood. Janet and I were really close when we were younger, despite the seven years that separated our birth. She was now married to a plantation owner nearby. I did not see her often for she was now the mother of three boys. She was glad when she heard that father had found a spouse, because she wanted to see him happy, as before. But she did not want to have a woman acting like our mother… especially now that we were both adults. Technically, I was not an adult yet. I was still seventeen. But I was a man nonetheless.

Thomas was eighteen, soon to be nineteen. He was not from the same bloodline, so he was not legally part of the family. My mother loved him, but my father never really accepted him as his own son. He considered him as my best friend that had nowhere to live, except in our home. It saddened me a little that after all those years he still did not see him as other than a long term guest.

My father was forty-five years old but he still looked young. People said that I was the perfect mixture of both my parents. I only had the good sides of both of them. My father was quite short, 5'6''. I took after my mother who was 5'10''. Every man in her family was six feet over. So was I. I was 6'3'' with the honey blond hair of my father. While my father tended to be a little overweight, I was lean and muscular. But I had his eyes: a pacific blue that could almost glow in the dark.

"How old do ya think she is?" Thomas asked me.

"I do not know. Father did not say much to me about her." I whispered back to him.

The only thing my father mentioned to me was that he was getting married again to a wonderful and beautiful woman. But he was from a different age range. Wonderful and beautiful did not have the same meaning for him than it did for me. For all I knew, she could be a small round ball witch. But I did not think so.

"Maybe she is so old that ya'll have to clean up the house in her stead." He chuckled.

I rolled up my eyes in exasperation. Since he found out about the wedding, he did not stop to tease me about the fact that the identity of the bride was completely anonymous.

"You are going to live with her too, remember?" He groaned at my response. He did not like change much. He did not want another person entering our life and changing everything.

But seriously, I found the entire situation strange. I did not know her name, her hair colour, her age, her habits, her leisure… I did not know anything about her, other than she was a woman... hopefully.

The violinist started to play a slow melody that announced to us all that the bride was coming. Everybody stood up and we all looked to the front doors of the chapel. Finally, all the mysteries will be solved out. The doors opened and a woman in a wedding dress started to walk down the aisle at a slow pace. No man was walking her to my father. Her family did not make the trip to Texas to attend her wedding. I could only guess that her brother had other things to do than walk her down the aisle. Her parents were probably dead because I could only guess that she was the same age as my father. I did not see him with an older or too young lady.

I could not really see her because she was veiled. She was not tall, but not too short either. At least, this time, my father was taller then her wife: or in this case, future wife. She was so lean that I wondered if it was natural or if the corset she was wearing was too tight. But by the look of her arms, she seemed to be extremely delicate. Plus, she did not seem to have any curves of sort; which surprised me considering my father's preferences. She was so small and tiny that I could probably encircle her waist with both my hands without much difficulty. I could not see her face because it was hidden under a lacy veil. She had luxurious mahogany hair, tied up on her head that fell down around her face in curly waves.

As she walked down the aisle, she stumbled a few times. I tried to hide a smile but my friend Thomas did not have this same restraint. I nudged him in the ribs so he would keep his mouth shut. I felt some compassion for that woman, whoever she was. She was from another state and from what my father told me, she did not know him that much. And, at the moment, I wondered why she accepted to marry my father and why my father had any interest in her in particular.

I kept looking at her as she walked down the aisle and I knew that she was anxious and afraid. I did not know why, but I always seemed to know what people were feeling around me, just by looking at them. I could look at their eyes, or hands, or posture… and I would know what emotions were running inside of them. This woman was definitely scared of something. I could only guess it was the outcome of this wedding.

She finally reached the end of the aisle. My father pulled his left hand up and she hesitantly put her right hand on his. They kneeled in front of the priest and the ceremony began.

I did not listen to what the holy man was saying for I already knew what it meant. My friend did not listen either. He was constantly passing comments in my ear as to why this woman was so veiled. His theories went from her having the pox to being disfigured somehow. Soon, I shut him up.

The woman that was soon going to be my 'mother' seemed to be looking everywhere except at the priest. I was sure she was not paying much attention to his sayings, just like me. Her hand that was joined with my father's was trembling so much, it was clear she was terribly nervous. Then, the moment we all waited for came. The bride and the groom stood up.

"Do you, Jonathan James Whitlock, take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife, to love and to cherish, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness or in health; and do you promise, forsaking all others, to cleave to her and her alone, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." In my father's tone, there was no hesitation. He never took a decision without thinking first. If he decided to marry that woman today, he was sure he wanted her to belong to him. He then put a ring on her finger.

"Do you, Isabella Marie Swan…" _So that was her name…_ Finally, I had the impression that some pieces of the puzzle were appearing out of thin air. It was not much, but at least, now, I had a name. "…take this man as your lawfully wedded husband, to love and to cherish, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness or in health; and do you promise, forsaking all others, to cleave to him and him alone, for as long as you both shall live?"

She took a deep breath in before answering the priest's question. Her answer was a bit hesitant and shaky. I could barely hear her, and I was standing close to her. I was sure those in the back of the chapel did not hear her at all. But she agreed nonetheless to this union.

"Because Jonathan James Whitlock and Isabella Marie Swan have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and these witnesses, and have there to given and pledged their faith, each one to the other. By the power given to me, I pronounce Jonathan James Whitlock and Isabella Marie Swan Husband and Wife, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

The priest then turned his attention specifically on my father. "You may kiss the bride."

My father turned to his new wife. He pulled her veil up and kissed her. I did not see her because I was facing the back of my father and he was completely hiding her. Everybody cheered and the religious ceremony was officially over. People in the audience seemed to be ecstatic about something other than the wedding. Most of the men's eyes were wide opened and the women seemed to be suddenly more jealous than before. I looked at my friend beside me and I could see that he was as excited to see her as I was. And then his eyes widened too. I arched an eyebrow and turned around to see what surprised him so.

My father started to walk to the front door with his new wife. Before they were too far off, I saw her. She was… so young… and so beautiful. She looked way younger than me, which could explain the flatness of her body and the anxiousness that was radiating from her. But she was also the most beautiful woman, or in this case, girl that I had ever seen in my life. I felt some sort of pull toward her.

"Did ya see…?" Thomas started. I simply nodded in response. I was out of word. She was definitely someone that both Thomas and I did not expect.

The people started to leave the chapel so Thomas and I followed, not sure what to say. There was a short reunion at our house on the plantation in East Texas. Thomas and I rode to the house and we arrived slightly after the others because we took our time. We were talking about my father's new wife. We were really surprised to see her. We speculated on her age, the reason she married my father and why her family was not present today.

I was still outside of the house when I heard my father calling for me. I turned and looked at my friend who simply rolled his eyes.

"Jasper… Jasper…" I walked in the house. Everybody was in the giant living room. "Jasper Jeremiah Whitlock. Where are you?" He was almost screaming. Thomas chuckled when I hasten my pace.

"I am here father." He spun around when he heard me and I saw that he had a glass of brandy in his hand. Phoebe, the young black servant of the house passed next to me with glasses of champagne on a plate. I grabbed one before I saw my father smiling widely when he saw me and walking toward me.

"Son." He gave me a manly hug and then pulled me through the crowd. I took a long sip of my drink as he walked me to where Ms. Sw-… euh… Ms. Whitlock was sitting. "You need to meet my wife and your new mother formally."

I chocked myself with my drink and started couching loudly. _Mother_? That woman, or should I call her _girl_, could never be my new mother. She was younger than me. I looked up and met her eyes. She was blushing profoundly at my father's comment. I heard Thomas laughing hard behind me, only resulting in Ms. Whitlock turning into a deeper shade of red.

"Are you all right son?" My father asked as he clapped my back to make me feel better. It did not help but I nodded for him to stop.

"Yes. Sorry father."

"Jasper, this is the new Ms. Whitlock. Madam. This is my son, Jasper Jeremiah Whitlock. And my daughter, Janet Jane Walker." I looked to my left and saw Janet smiling next to me. We both bowed in greeting as Ms. Whitlock bowed her head too.

It was then that she talked. It was the first time I really heard her talk. In the Chapel, the only thing she said was 'I do' and it was not her normal voice. Now, she sounded like a true angel. And she had a slight French accent, although her English was perfect.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. But I must ask; what is it with your names?" She blushed again when she asked her question. She was so shy and very observant for she noticed the resemblance in our names.

I chuckled at her question because I remembered the time when I asked the same question to my parents.

"Ya mean why their names are all JJW?" Thomas laughed. My friend was not the most formal and courteous man. Therefore, he did not wait any formal presentation to talk to the new arrival to the family.

"My father is very proud of his name. And my mother…" Janet paused when she thought of our mother. It was still painful to think of her even though she left this world almost ten years ago. "…she was named Jane Jocasta Weber. JJW. Both our parents were JJW's. So… they decided to pass down the tradition to their children." My sister giggled next to me.

"And I expect you to do the same for your children." My father replied with an authoritarian tone.

"I already did, father." My sister replied teasingly. She, indeed, named her three sons after the JJW tradition since her husband's name was Walker. She hugged him and kissed his cheek. "Congratulation." She whispered to him, although I could still hear her.

My sister then came to me and kissed my cheek. She smiled at me before she whispered to me. "She is so not what we expected. She is much better."

I nodded and smiled back. It was true. Isabella Marie Swan Whitlock was something we both did not foresee. I sighed and shook my head.

Everyone around us was dancing in pair. I felt the firm grip of my father around my shoulder.

"You missed the first dance." He accused.

"I'm sorry father. I was talking with Thomas and we did not see the time passing by." I looked at my feet. He gently squeezed my shoulder before tapping my back.

"Fine. You must dance with the bride, as a mother-son dance." I looked down at him and arched one eyebrow. I wondered if he was serious about the whole mother-son thing. He could not possibly expect me to call her 'mother' when she was younger than me. At least, she seemed to be younger.

He pushed me to Isabella and grinned at me. I sighed and looked at my… the new addition to the family. I bowed slightly to her before holding my hand out for her. She smiled at me with the most beautiful smile I had ever seen and placed her little hand in mine. Heat started to flow in my entire body as i touched her hand. I walked her to the dancing floor and started to spin her around.

I had a firm grip around her waist. She was clutching at my shoulder and hand. She tripped a few time as we danced but I held her close to me. The dance was somewhat difficult to execute for I seemed to be at least a foot taller than her.

"Please, do not call me that." She whispered to me when we were far enough from my father. I looked down at her and smirked. She was still blushing, and it only enhanced her beauty when she did so. I knew she was embarrassed, and I tried my best to make her feel at ease with me.

"I have no intention on calling you mother when my father is not around. I will call you Miss Whitlock or Miss Isabella." I replied as I danced around the place with her. She was still as clumsy as before, but I never let her fall. She did not look at me as we danced.

"No 'Miss' either. It is way too formal. And it makes me feel so old. Plus, we are going to live in the same house after all." She looked up into my eyes. Hers were a deep dark chocolate color. I was lost in them, not able to look anywhere else. She did not break our gaze either. I completely forgot where we were. Right now, I envied my father. The feeling was wrong, but I could not bring myself to regret it. After a few moments, I finally found my voice again.

"Then what do you want me to call you?"

"Izzy. Just Izzy." She said under her breath.

"Then call me Jazz." I smiled widely at her and she smiled back. I knew that we were going to get along quite fine. She seemed to be really kind and perfect. She was an angel who fell down from heaven. My father was extremely lucky.

We continued to dance together and I did not see time passing by. She danced with about every single man in the room. But in the ends, she always found her way into my arms. I never saw her dance with my father. Not even once. And after few hours, people stopped asking her to dance with them so we just kept each other company and we ended up dancing together. It seemed that we danced for quite some time because some people were already leaving the place. I walked to Pheobe who still had drinks in her hand and picked two. I gave one to the bride and took one for myself. Isabella smiled to me and started drinking.

I found it strange that my father did not come and claimed his wife a long time ago. It seemed that I had stolen the bride for a while. But my father was somewhat preoccupied. He was already extremely drunk. Isabella was next to me and she was looking strangely at her new husband.

"Is he always like this?" She asked me. My father was now chasing Josiah, the maid of the house. She was screaming for him to stop but he didn't. He was really drunk.

"Well. He likes to drink. But he rarely is that drunk." I simply said. I did not want to lie to her. My father always had some sort of alcohol in his system, to forget the pain. He grew accustomed to it. But now, he was literally black.

"Walk with me outside." Isabella grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the house, away from the crowd. She walked to a tree and sat down next to it. I followed her and leaned down on the ground in front of her.

"You do not like the attention being drawn on you, do you?" It was not a question, really. More of a statement. Every time someone would tell her that she was beautiful tonight or simply when they asked her to dance, she would blush.

"I never did. I prefer to be and remain unnoticed." She replied gently, slyly blushing. She took a sip of her drink and looked at the moon.

"You cannot go unnoticed." I mumbled. She looked at me and blushed harder. I laughed at her reaction and she soon joined me, after glaring playfully at me.

"So. Tell me about yourself, Isabella." I knew she asked me to call her Izzy, but it still felt unproper. After all, I just met her few hours ago. But I had a feeling that I would be calling her that soon. She leaned against the tree and took a deep breath in.

"Euh! What do you want to know?" She was playing with her fingers, uncomfortable.

"Everything. I want to know who my new mother is." I chuckled as she gently slapped my arm before glaring at me.

"I told you not to call me that. I am way too young to be your mother." She blushed even harder than before. "It is probably even not possible." She muttered under her breath.

"How old are you, seriously?" I couldn't help but ask. I knew my question was out of place but I was dying to know.

"Fourteen. I am going to be fifteen in a month." My eyes widened. She was younger than I previously thought. "What about you?"

"I am seventeen." I simply answered.

"Oh!" She did not know what to say. And right now, I did not know what to think either. She was afraid. Of that I was sure. She was so young and she was already married to a man who had two children older than her. She had many reasons to fear the future.

"If you do not mind my asking, why did you marry my father?" The question was rude, but I could not help myself and ask. I wanted to know.

"My parents." She simply answered. She was not looking at me. Her knees were brought up to her chest and she encircled her legs with her arms, protecting herself. She finished her drink and placed the cup on the ground.

I did not say anything. I wanted her to continue on but I could not push her either. She turned her head to finally look at me. She probably saw all the questions on my face because she stared he explanation.

"My parents are everything but rich. And I am the youngest daughter out of nine." She sighed and I could see silent tears running down her face. I knew she was heartbroken, or something similar to that. She left her family behind and she was probably never going to see them again.

She sniffed and wipped the tears away from her face. I got on my knees and crawled next to her. I leaned on the tree, our shoulders touching. She smiled to me before continuing. "My father did not have the money to dot me properly. Anyway, my older sisters were all to marry before me since they were older." She paused, still looking at the moon.

"And then my father came along?" She nodded.

"And then your father came along. He had some business in Baton Rouge and he apparently saw me there. He came to my father and asked for my hand. My father couldn't possibly refuse when Mr. Whitlock told him he did not want nor needed the dot." She paused and tears started running down her cheeks again. "I did not even see him before today."

She wipped the tears away but she could not stop crying. I took her hands in mine. She looked up and stared straight into my eyes.

"My father is a good man." I stroked her palm wiht my thumb. "He will not hurt you. Anyway I will not let him hurt you."

She smiled to me. It was the most beautiful I had ever seen. "Thank you Jasper. It is good to have someone of my age to talk to."

"I am not your age. I am older, remember?" I smirked at her. She arched one eyebrow before shaking her head.

"You know what I mean, Jazz." She giggled.

"I do." I then paused. There was something else that was on my mind. "Izzy? Why did your parents not come to the wedding?"

She laughed sadly. "They did not have the money to travel here and back to Baton Rouge."

I squeezed her hand. We both looked at the moon. After a moment, she gently leaned her head on my shoulder. We stayed like this for many minutes, not saying anything. Then, we started talking about what we enjoyed most. We basically talked about ourselves.

"What is it you enjoy most?" I asked her.

"Reading." She answered without hesitation. "You?"

"I enjoy reading too. Thomas hates it though. So mostly of the time, I hang around him, just to keep him compagny." She laughed.

"You speak French?" I seriously wanted to know if she spoke French or if she only had an accent because people around her had one. She was so fluent in English that I could hardly believe that it was not her first language.

"Mais bien sur. Je viens de Bâton Rouge après tout." She replied. She was smiling as she answered my question. She sounded like a true angel when she spoke her mother tongue. "Do you?"

"Un petit peu." I answered with a very thick southern accent. She giggled at my attempt of speaking.

"It was very good." She continued giggling as I looked at her with a smug on my face.

"You are just saying that to make me happy."

"No. I am not. At least you know three words in French. A lot of people do not even know their English properly and you, you speak it perfectly and you know a little of another language. It is quite impressive."

"Not as much as you." I argued with her for she was quite impressive herself. She seemed to be very educated for a woman which was something I really liked.

"There ya are. I have been lookin' for ya for ages now." I looked to my left to see my friend Thomas coming our way. "You stole the bride away."

I rolled my eyes at his teasing.

"He did no such thing. I needed some fresh air and Jasper was kind enough to accompany me." Bella explained. I kept myself from laughing. She was definitely not used to someone teasing her.

"Jasper... huh? It is not 'son' anymore?" Thomas chuckled.

"Shut up, Thomas. Do not pay attention to him, Isabella. It is just who he is. He cannot take anything seriously." She nodded and leaned back on the tree.

"So... I do not want to interrupt ya little conversation but... ya father is basically turnin' the house upside down to find his new wife. So if ya do not want to see it bein' completely destroyed, I suggest that ya both go inside."

Isabella looked scarly at me. I knew she was afraid, not only because she had never had any sort of sexual intercourse before, but also because my father scared her a little. He was also extremely drunk and she was uneasy with that fact. I squeezed her hand and smiled encouragingly at her. "It is going to be all right." I whispered to her.

She nodded, put herself together and stood up. She took a deep breath in and walked toward the house. My eyes followed her until she was inside the house where I could not see her anymore.

"What are ya doin'?" Thomas asked me. He was dead serious, which was rare.

"What do you mean?" I stood up and grabbed the cups from the ground.

"Jazz." He sighed and shook his head. "Do not mess around with me. I know ya. I know ya better than anyone else, and better than ya know ya yourself. And I have never seen you lookin' at anyone the way ya are lookin' at her."

"I seriously have no idea what you are talking about, Tom." And I really had no clue about what he meant. I just talked to the new wife of my father. Sure, we seemed to get along very well. But what was he expecting? She was around my age. I was sure he would like her too.

"In any other circumstance, I would have been more than happy for ya." He paused and seemed to be thinking about his late statement. "Okay. It is not true. I would not have been' if she was a Yankee." I laughed. "But, are ya serious? Ya father's wife? Ya have to be kiddin', friend."

"What are you sugges..." He did not let me finish.

"Ya are fallin' for her." He simply said, articulating as if he was talking to an idiot.

"What?"

"Just do not. Stop it. And stop it now! While ya still can. For everyone's sake. Do not." He pointed his finger at me.

"I am not." He arched one eyebrow, which clearly meant that he did not believe me one second.

Was I falling for her? I did not think so. Of course, tonight we became really close. She talked to me about herself and what she was feeling. And I did the same to her. But it was to be expected. We were going to be living together for now on. We could not remain strangers forever. It could not have been any other way.

I looked skeptically at my friend and decided that he was wrong.

"I am not in love with her." I stated.

"No. Ya are right, Jazz. Ya are not." He completely lost me at that moment. I thought he was the one saying that I had feelings for her. I thought he said I was. "But if ya do not stop now, ya will be." He added.

I huffed and walked toward the house. This conversation lasted long enough. When I entered the house, I saw that almost everybody was gone. The only remaining people in the house were my sister, her family and the servants.

Damn. I did not think we were away that long. Apparently, I was wrong. Izzy and I talked for much longer that I thought.

I went to sit down on the couch in the living room.

"Where were you?" Christian, my brother in law asked me as he was teasing the flame in the fireplace. He was a good man and I considered him as a friend also.

"He bonded with his mother." Thomas smirked as I punched his arm out of annoyance. He might have been my best friend and brother in some ways, he was still a great nuisance on so many levels.

"Bonded?" Christian arched one eyebrow, smirking too.

I was about to say that it did not matter when we heard some things I definitely never wanted to hear in my life. At first, it was something knocking repeatively on the wall. Then, we could hear my father moaning in pleasure. I shivered in disgust as some images poped in my head.

"Ugh!" Everyone in the room got up and walked hastely outside the house.

We sat down next to a tree. Thomas was laughing hard as my sister was smiling.

"I never want to imagine father like this." She whispered.

"Well, sister. You are not the one who will be living with him." I shook my head to get rid of the image that was now impressed in my mind.

"It will not be that bad. He is pretty drunk tonight." She was holding one of her sleepy son in her arms.

"Poor miss Whitlock. Tonight ain't gonna be a fun night for her." Josiah said. I looked at her, wondering what she was talking about. My father would never hurt her even if he was drunk to death. He would not dare.

"Yeah. She was so scared before the wedding when we were dressing her. That poor little thing is so innocent and pure. She ain't gonna enjoy..."

"Phoebe. Josiah. Enough." My sister ordered. "It is not a proper subject of conversation to have. And especially not in front of men." She pointed to me, Thomas and her husband.

The two servants both nodded and Christian, Thomas and I bursted out in laughers. I could still hear Pheobe and Josiah talking though. I heard one of them whispering something like 'sore tomorrow morning'.

I did not know a lot of thinks about love making. I was religious enough to wait after mariage. Perhaps not. I just did not meet someone with whom I wanted to be with that way. And from what I have heard, it hurt a lot at first. For the girls at least. And I did not know if I wanted to hurt them, even if it was bringing me pleasure.

Thomas who had a lot of experience in the matter was usually talking to me about his exploits and conquest. I found it somewhat disgusting that he could take a woman that way and then left her to go find another one. I could not really understand his motive. For me, love making was exactly that… love making. It was the most powerful way to express our love for someone else. For Thomas, it was just a distraction and a way to enjoy a good night.

Thomas and I were quite different on many levels and we did not agree on certain subject matters such as this one. It did not alter our brother bound though.

The servant girls were still whispering to each other. At the moment, I could not help and wonder if Isabella was in extreme pain right now. I did not want her to be. And for some reason, at the moment, I hated my father. Firstly, because he was hurting her, even though I knew it was not intentional. Secondly, for some sick reason, I wanted to be up there, in his stead. I shook my head in disgust at my own thoughts.

I then felt as if someone was looking at me, and Thomas sure was. He was smirking as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. He wingled his eyebrows suggestively and I rapidly looked down at my laps. Suddenly, I knew he was right.

I was not in love with Isabella. But I could easily fall for her. And fall hard.

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**Traduction:  
**Mais bien sur. Je viens de Bâton Rouge après tout.: _Of course. I am from Baton Rouge after all.  
_Un petit peu_: Just a bit._

**This is it!  
I have no idea when I will update next, or which of my stories will have a new chapter. I have a serious disinterest in writing nowadays but I wanted to give you something that I wrote a while ago. I had no intention on posting it soon but I received several messages of people asking me to post something.**

**Please review!**


	2. AN

**ON HOLD**

I'm sorry to inform you that this story is officially on hold. I don't know when I will update this story, or even finish it. I lack of motivation and I want to focus on rewritting Undercover and my new story On Terrible Days. It does not mean that I am not working on this story though. I still am. It's just that I have nothing good to giive you at the moment about this.

Sorry,

Anna


End file.
